


Time Out of Sync

by rsadelle



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike has no idea what to do with the teenage version of his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Out of Sync

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lake (beyond_belief)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/gifts).



> Happy birthday Lake! This is not exactly the teenage!Jeff shows up story I meant to write, but I hope you like it anyway.
> 
> **Content Note:** Non-celebrity partners appear in this story; skip it if that's not your thing.

Mike doesn't specifically remember letting anyone crash at his place last night, but that doesn't mean he didn't do it, so he's not too concerned about the footsteps coming down the stairs. They sound familiar anyway, even if he can't quite place them.

He's more concerned when he looks up at face narrower and younger than he's used to seeing.

"Where am I?" Jeff asks. "Are you," he scrunches up his face, "related to Richie?"

"Oh, shit," Mike says.

Ten minutes later, having established that Mike is Mike and Jeff is Jeff, Jeff is sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee while Mike steps out onto the balcony and hisses, "Would you just get the fuck over here?" over the phone to Jeff. His Jeff. Now Jeff.

And, look, he understands that Jeff is probably all cozy at home with Megan and their dogs, but this is the kind of situation where a best friend's job is to get his ass off the couch and come over.

It takes ten minutes for Jeff to get there, an awkward ten minutes where Mike makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that Jeff - then Jeff - eats almost as fast as Mike puts them in front of him. Mike remembers that kind of endless hunger, when getting enough calories never seemed like a chore.

The footsteps that come up the stairs are more familiar, now, than the ones that came down the other stairs earlier. "What was so important that you dragged me out of the house at nine am on a day off?" Jeff asks as he pauses to greet Arnold.

"Come and see," Mike says, and he takes advantage of the pause while then Jeff and now Jeff look at each other to bite into a sandwich. Chewing means he doesn't have to say anything while he looks at them, seeing all the differences in them side by side. The similarities, too.

"Huh," now Jeff says.

Then Jeff twists to look at Mike. "You weren't lying."

"No," Mike says. "I was not lying." He takes another bite of the sandwich.

Now Jeff turns all his attention on Mike. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know," Mike says, his voice on the edge of rising with frustration. He doesn't need two Jeffs around to make things more complicated. How he feels about one Jeff isn't the same as the way he feels about the other, and juggling one set of those feelings is enough for him. "Something. He needs to go back where he came from."

"Hey, don't yell at me," now Jeff says mildly. "It's not like I know how this happened."

They both turn to look at then Jeff who shrugs. "Me either," he says.

Now Jeff's shrug is exactly the same for all that his shoulders are broader, and it's disconcerting seeing it on his body then and on his body now in such short succession. "You're going to Quickie's later, right?"

"Yes," Mike says.

"So bring him along. Maybe someone will know something."

"I'm not keeping him all day," Mike protests.

"I won't bother you," then Jeff says. He looks hurt, which Mike feels guilty about, because Jeff is his best friend, and then he feels pissed off for feeling guilty because then Jeff isn't the Jeff in his life now.

Now Jeff claps Mike on the shoulder. "I don't remember this happening, so you probably can't mess him up too badly." And then he has the gall to leave.

Mike has no idea what to do with the teenage version of his best friend.

He makes more sandwiches, and later he takes Jeff down to the beach because no one recognizes them there anyway.

Despite saying he won't bother him, Jeff hovers, and watches Mike all the time, and Mike is distinctly relieved when it's time to go to Quickie's and he doesn't have to be the full center of Jeff's attention. It's unnerving when it's not the Jeff whose attention he soaks up like rain in a desert now.

Jackie does a double-take when she answers the door, and then she hugs Mike, smiles at Jeff, and lets them in. Pretty much everyone does that same double-take, and it becomes more obvious why when Mike makes it out into the backyard and Jeff and Megan are already there.

It takes a while, but eventually Mike manages to escape from Jeff, then Jeff, leaving him with Tyler and Pears, and find now Jeff.

"Can't you take him?" Mike grumbles. "You can put him in one of the bunk beds."

"Nope," Jeff says. "Too weird."

"It's weird for me."

Jeff shrugs. "He just appeared, right? Maybe he'll just disappear."

"Not soon enough," Mike mutters, looking around to make sure then Jeff is still occupied somewhere that isn't here.

"Be nice to him," Jeff says.

Mike snorts. It's not like he was that nice to Jeff when Jeff was then Jeff.

"I'm serious," Jeff says, and he sounds serious, not just his usual laid-back calm. "He's still just a kid, and he's in love with you. Be nice to him." And then he walks away like he didn't just drop a bomb in the middle of Mike's understanding of their whole friendship.

Mike's still shell-shocked when Quickie edges into his space.

"Having a good time, man?"

Mike shrugs. "Weird," he says. "You meet the other Jeff?"

"Yes," Quickie says. He pats Mike's shoulder. "Everything will work out in its own time."

Mike rolls his eyes. "Cut the mystical goalie bullshit." Then he looks closer at Quickie. "Did you smoke up without sharing?"

Quickie frowns at him. "Didn't Jac- Oh, no. She probably thought you'd get paranoid."

And, great, he's missing out on Jackie's brownies too. This day just keeps getting better and better.

"Isn't this weird for you?" Mike asks when he runs into Megan a while later.

She follows the direction of his gesture and looks at then Jeff listening to Pears. "Not really," she says. "He was older when I met him. It's not like he's my past showing up." She pats Mike's arm. "You knew him then. I'm sure you'll be fine."

She sure has more confidence about it than Mike does.

Mike stays as late as he can, letting the other guys entertain then Jeff as much as possible, but they have to leave eventually.

He finds then Jeff hovering around the dessert table.

"Mike." Jeff draws out the vowel and turns to Mike with wide smile.

Mike takes in how mellow Jeff is. "You got pot brownies?"

Jeff shrugs, slowly. "Jackie gave me a couple, and made me promise not to share with you."

"And you didn't share anyway?"

Jeff looks so guilty that Mike can't take it. Younger version or not, Jeff is still his best friend. Mike puts an arm around Jeff's shoulders. "Let's go."

Jeff seems to have forgotten that there was any reason to feel bad by the time they get home, crouching down to pet Arnold and getting stuck there while he rubs his hands over Arnold's back over and over again.

"Okay," Mike says after it's been long enough that he might actually lose both of them there for the rest of the night if he doesn't do something, "time for bed."

"Richie," Jeff says seriously when he stands up, "this is a pretty great life." He smiles, mellow and content, and damn now Jeff for ever saying anything because now Mike can also see what else is there that he never noticed. "We win the Cup together."

Mike smiles back at him because that's what happens when he thinks about the two of them winning the Cup together. "Yeah, Cartsy," he says, "it's pretty great." He pats Jeff on the back. "Bedtime. I have practice tomorrow."

He makes sure Jeff is in the guest room before he goes to his room and gets ready for bed. He calls Lindsey once he's settled in. She's working night shifts right now, and that means they talk at the end of his day and the beginning of hers.

"Hi, babe," she says when she picks up. "Breakfast at night never gets less weird."

Mike chuckles, feeling soothed by the absolute ordinariness of it. "Good morning," he says.

"Good night," Lindsey shoots back. Mike can hear her smiling. "How was your day?"

Some of the tension of the day comes back, and he tells her about then Jeff showing up. He leaves out the part about what now Jeff told him, and leaves in the part about Jackie not letting him get high.

Lindsey's sympathetic about that last part, but seems to take the rest of it in stride.

"Don't you think it's weird?" Mike asks. "How would you feel if the teenage version of your best friend showed up?"

"My best friend was awesome when she was a teenager," Lindsey says. "That would be so much fun."

Mike sighs.

"Hey," Lindsey says, "I get that it's weird. But it's Jeff. He's your best friend. He's been your best friend since he was a teenager. You'll be fine."

Mike really is the only one who doesn't think that.

*

Jeff is still there in the morning, and they argue about him going with Mike to practice.

"We have open practices," Mike says firmly. "You know who comes to those? Reporters. People whose job is to know what you look like at every age. You're not going."

Jeff sulks. It would be funny if he didn't also look so betrayed.

Mike stays firm, even in the face of that, and goes to practice alone. He leaves Jeff a key so he can go to the beach or whatever. No one will recognize him for who he is.

"Other Jeff gone?" Brownie asks him when he gets to the rink.

"Nope." Mike focuses on his pre-practice routine. "He's at home pissed off at me because I wouldn't let him come to practice."

Brownie pats him on the back. "That probably won't last long."

It never did when Jeff was mad at him before. Mike always thought that was because Jeff was so chill, but maybe it was more than that.

Mike has to have variations on the same conversation over and over again before he can get out on the ice.

"How's, uh, me?" Jeff asks him when they line up for a drill.

Mike shrugs. "Still here."

"Mad he couldn't come to practice?"

"Yep."

"He'll get over it." Jeff knocks Mike in the shoulder with one glove. "I could never stay mad at you for very long."

Mike's up next for the drill, so he doesn't say, "Yeah, and what's up with that?" He probably wouldn't get a good answer out of Jeff anyway.

After practice, Joner knocks into Mike's shoulder and says, "Bring other Jeff over later. Pears needs someone he can school at COD."

"Fuck you," Pears yells from halfway across the room.

"No, fuck you," Joner yells back.

Mike takes that as his cue to ignore them for the time being.

It wasn't a bad idea, though, and Pears has gotten over whatever hero worship thing he had about Mike at the beginning, so later, after lunch and a nap, when then Jeff's constant attention is getting on Mike's nerves, Mike drives them over to Joner's and lets Joner and Pears entertain him. Their idea of entertainment encompasses not just COD and tacos but also beer.

"You know you're contributing to the delinquency of a minor," Mike points out when Jeff is draining his third beer.

"I'm _nineteen_ ," Jeff says.

"And the drinking age here is twenty-one."

Jeff shoots him a look that's probably trying to be sly and missing. "Technically, Jeff Carter is legally over twenty-one."

"And technically," Mike says, "you shouldn't even be here." He can't look at the flash of hurt that sweeps over Jeff's face, and he goes to get himself a beer instead. He gets one for Jeff too, and hands it over without making a big deal out of it being an apology.

Jeff's wasted by the time they leave, giggly and hanging off of Mike while they go up the stairs. "Mike," he says. "Mike, Mike." He wraps both arms around Mike, not just the one around his shoulders so Mike can keep him upright. "You're my best friend."

"Yeah, buddy," Mike says, trying to keep it light even though he feels the weight of what Jeff's saying, what he's not saying, the way it settles down around Mike like something new. He knows Jeff, his Jeff, now Jeff, is his best friend, but they aren't close the way they were when they were nineteen. Mike remembers those days, phone calls and emails tethering them together while they made plans for when they made it to the Flyers. The days not that much later when they played together, lived together, were together all the time. They got some of that back when Jeff first came to LA and Mike was so, so grateful to have him back, but it's not the same with Megan here now. Mike doesn't begrudge Jeff what he has, but it seems unfair that he has it just when Mike most wants what they used to have.

"Mike," Jeff says, then Jeff, the one who still is that nineteen-year-old kid making plans for the two of them, "I love you."

"Jesus, you're drunk." Mike does his best to steer Jeff toward the stairs, or at least the couch. The last thing he needs is the younger, worshipful version of his best friend offering him something he was too dumb to know he could ever take when it was an option.

Jeff doesn't let them get far, using his greater height to keep Mike off-balance and in place. "Mike," he says. "Mike, Mike, I really love you." And then he kisses Mike, sloppy and drunk and so fucking _determined_.

It's a really shitty idea, because the kid is nineteen and in love with someone Mike used to be and won't be the Jeff Mike loves now for another decade. But the kid is also nineteen and eager and someone Mike's loved for almost half his life.

Mike kisses back for a moment before he pushes Jeff away. "Jeff," he says.

"Please," Jeff says, looking even younger when he does. "You seem less likely to freak out than my Richie." Then he takes half a step back, not too far because Mike's still holding onto him to keep him from falling down. "Um, unless you have a girlfriend who wouldn't be okay with this."

It's an out, and Mike could take it, but instead he says, "No," because he and Lindsey have a strict don't ask, don't tell policy when it comes to their sexual adventures when they're not together and he already texted her a good morning because he didn't know if they'd be back too late to call her. "But not down here. If you can make up the stairs to my room."

Jeff nods, determined again, and kisses Mike, still too sloppy, before he goes up the stairs, Mike following close behind him in case he falls.

He doesn't fall, makes it to Mike's bedroom and strips off his shirt. He has muscle - has to for the hockey he plays - but he hasn't filled out yet they way Mike's Jeff has, is still lean and lanky.

"Wow," Jeff says when Mike takes off his shirt. "You grow up hot."

It reminds Mike how young he is, even more than the way he looks, and Mike has a crisis of conscience that roots him in place.

"No," Jeff says, face sliding into a frown. "Come on, you already said."

"You know, it's usually me getting you to do things," Mike says, because that was the way it was when they were nineteen, even if everything is different now.

"I know," Jeff says. He looks at Mike, steady and appreciative, and, fuck, Mike can practically see how much Jeff loves him shining out of his face. "Want to get me to do something now?"

Mike laughs, can't help it, at the whole situation and Jeff offering him, so clearly, anything he wants. "Just get in bed," he says, and he strips off his pants and joins Jeff there.

"Can I?" Jeff asks, and Mike tugs him in.

"Just," Mike says, and he gets them close together, close enough to make out while he jerks Jeff off.

Jeff gets with the program pretty quickly, getting his hand on Mike's dick, managing to get Mike all the way hard before he comes, no stamina at nineteen, and then jerking Mike the rest of the way off after.

"I can stay here, right?" Jeff mumbles after that, halfway to sleep already.

"Yeah, Cartsy," Mike says, unbelievably fond of Jeff, this one and his too, the feelings all tumbling together.

*

Jeff is still there when Mike wakes up, smiling sleepy and happy at him, unfairly awake for how much he drank last night and asking, "Can I blow you?"

Like Mike's going to turn that down, gives permission and watches Jeff's hair, so much less naturally blond than it is now, while he goes down on Mike. He's not good at it, but he wants it, goes after it fiercely, almost choking himself on Mike's dick and coughing when he doesn't quite manage to swallow everything when Mike comes.

Mike pulls him up from where he's rubbing himself off on Mike's sheets and jerks him off instead, sharp pulls that make Jeff gasp and shove his dick harder into Mike's hand.

"Relax, Cartsy," Mike says. He mouths at Jeff's jaw. "Not like I'm going to stop."

Of course that's when Jeff comes, messy across Mike's hand and hip.

Mike lets Jeff stay close for a little bit, before he shoves him out of bed to go shower and brush his teeth.

It's easier, today, to leave for the rink. When Jeff tries to argue, Mike shuts him down by kissing him, biting hard into his mouth and then licking his way softly out of it.

"I'll see you after practice," Mike says. "Take Arnold for a walk."

Jeff is just dazed enough to say, "Okay," and let Mike leave without any more arguments.

Mike catches his own eye in the rearview mirror; he looks relaxed, but probably not in a way that anyone will figure it out. Jeff at nineteen was clean-shaven enough not to have left beard burn.

"Where's your shadow?" Pears asks when Mike gets to the rink.

"At home," Mike says.

"Still sulking about not being one of the big kids?" Joner asks.

Mike rolls his eyes. "You sure treated him like one last night."

Joner laughs. "What's wrong, Rick? Kid can't hold his liquor?"

"That's my reputation you're ruining over there," now Jeff puts in from where he's in his stall lacing up his skates.

Mike lets Joner and Jeff hash that one out, and focuses on getting himself out onto the ice.

Brownie sits down next to him. "You doing okay, bud?"

Mike shrugs, unable to outright lie in the face of Brownie's genuine concern and attentive care.

Brownie just sits there, waiting him out, until Mike looks up to make sure no one's close enough to overhear him if he keeps his voice down.

"It's weird," Mike says. "I don't think I'm going to get used to having the other Jeff around." He keeps it to himself that he's not sure how he's going to get used to having now Jeff around with what he knows about Jeff now.

Brownie pats his shoulder sympathetically. "Things'll get back to normal soon enough, or they'll become normal. And if you need a break, send him over to us. I'm sure Nicole can find some sort of chore for him to do, or he can hang out with the kids."

Brownie's a better captain than Mike ever was. Mike thumps him in the back. "Thanks."

Brownie smiles at him and pats his shoulder again before he leaves Mike alone to finish getting ready.

No one else asks him about then Jeff for the rest of practice, which is either an unusual show of restraint or a sign that having then Jeff around is already becoming normal.

Mike doesn't want it to become normal.

Jeff's still there when Mike gets home, lying on the couch with Arnold, munching on carrot sticks and watching Mike's DVRed episodes of _Duck Dynasty_.

"Hey," Jeff says with a smile as he rolls off the couch and comes over to kiss Mike.

Mike kisses him back for a short minute, then squeezes his hip and steps away, intent on lunch. "Done being mad at me?"

"You did get me worked up and then leave," Jeff says.

"I'm sure you were smart enough to jerk off," Mike says absently as he makes them something to eat. "And you're getting a lot mouthier."

Jeff laughs and settles down at the counter to wait for Mike to finish making lunch.

It's a game day, so Mike doesn't let Jeff distract him from his routines, lets him nap with him but not do anything more than kiss him for a few minutes.

"I got you a ticket," Mike says when he's getting ready to go to the rink, tying his tie and trying not to get distracted by the frank appreciation on Jeff's face. "If you want to go, there'll be a lot of people there, put on a hat and probably no one will notice you too much."

"Yes," Jeff says almost before Mike finishes making the offer.

Mike drives to the rink with Jeff, leaves him to wander around before the game starts, and forgets about him for a couple of hours.

He's reminded later, when he leaves the locker room, after using some of the time he was still in there to text Lindsey before she's on shift, to find then Jeff waiting for him, hanging out with now Jeff and Megan. Then Jeff doesn't even seem to care that much about Megan, while now Jeff has an arm around her, the two of them so solid all the time.

Then Jeff's face lights up when he sees Mike, but he's smart enough not to do anything other than clap him on the shoulder and compliment his play.

Mike's nice to him, as much to show now Jeff that he's being nice as because he wants to be, and they all walk out to the parking lot together.

The car hums with tension Mike tries not to let bother him, until they get home and Jeff bites at his mouth as soon as they're inside the garage.

"Jesus," Mike says. "Get in the house at least."

They tumble inside, Jeff handsy and desperate in a way that makes Mike remember being nineteen, when everything was so urgent.

Mike slows him down, makes him go up the stairs to Mike's room and wait while Mike hangs up his suit.

Then Mike joins him on the bed, letting Jeff kiss him as messy and desperate as he wants. In truth, Mike doesn't mind it. The adrenaline from their win hasn't worn off yet, and throwing his body against Jeff's is as good a way to work it off as any.

"You should," Jeff says when Mike has him pinned down, the two of them probably the same weight like this but Jeff letting Mike just take and take. "You could. If you want to fuck me."

There's a flush on Jeff's face, and Mike has a hazy memory, sometime around the age Jeff is now, of the two of them drunk, Mike telling Jeff in too much detail about some girl he'd taken home who was really into anal, Jeff confessing that he'd liked it when a girl fingered him.

"Turn over," Mike says. "It'll be easier if you're on your knees."

He gets lube and a condom from the nightstand, works Jeff open slow, being careful, being _nice_.

He pushes in slow and easy too, and only snaps his hips harder when Jeff asks him for it, body and voice both.

This is a Jeff Mike doesn't yet have to share with Megan, with a city, with a team. This is a Jeff who's all his.

Mike curves over Jeff, puts his mouth to the back of Jeff's neck. "Carts," he says. "Carts, Cartsy. I love you, Cartsy."

Jeff comes, shaking apart beneath him, and that spurs Mike into thrusting hard into him a few more times before he comes and rolls to the side.

The look Jeff turns on him is blissful and so loving Mike doesn't know how he never saw that in Jeff before. It makes his chest ache with knowing he's not going to see it in his Jeff, not now.

Mike makes a token effort to clean them up, kisses Jeff, and falls asleep with one of Jeff's arms thrown across his waist.

*

Mike wakes up to an empty bed and a stillness that tells him Jeff is gone even before he wanders through the house to make sure.

"Where's your shadow?" Justin asks when Mike gets to the rink.

"Gone," Mike says with a shrug.

Quickie says, "I told you everything would work out in its own time," and continues past Mike to his own stall.

"Fucking mystical goalie bullshit," Mike calls after him, laughing when Quickie flips him off.

Jeff comes over to stand next to him, looking solid and adult in a way the other Jeff hadn't grown into yet. "What'd you do to get him to go back to his own time or wherever he was supposed to be?"

Mike just shrugs.

"That's not going to help me if nineteen-year-old you shows up one of these days."

Mike shrugs again. It wouldn't anyway; Mike at nineteen didn't need the same things as Jeff at nineteen.

Jeff puts a hand on Mike's shoulder. "You okay? You're being weird about this."

"No, yeah, I'm fine." Mike wraps his arm around Jeff's shoulders. "You know I love you, Cartsy."

Jeff looks at him a little strangely, but hugs him back. "Yeah, love you too, buddy."

It's enough.


End file.
